Not the Same
by HelpfulHaircut
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts after the war to attend a Quidditch match. Everything is the same... but it's not. And where is Draco Malfoy? Will things ever be the same again? Pre-Drarry/ hints of future drarry. Oneshot. Complete! EWE.


TITLE: Not the Same

AUTHOR: HelpfulHaircut

DESCRIPTION: Harry has a strange chat with Draco Malfoy by the lake. EWE. Oneshot.

PAIRINGS: none but you can pretend they're there. I sort of imagined it as pre-Drarry

STATUS: complete

WARNINGS: none.

DISCLAIMER:

I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money off of this, I think we all know that. ~HH

"...versus Slytherin folks, and it's a beautiful day for it!" Dean Thomas wasn't always good at playing Quidditch but he was always good at commentary. In fact, the Headmistress only had to call him down a handful of times. Of course, he wasn't the same as Lee Jordan had been, not as funny. He was, however, very energetic.

Harry Potter smiled, pausing a moment to take in the pitch. The expertly maintained grass stretched out before him between the stands, the breeze blowing pleasantly and carrying on it the smells of leather, potions, and something that was indescribably… _Hogwarts_. It had been a long time since he'd walked out on it, it felt like too long. This wasn't the same pitch he'd trained on, of course. It wasn't the same one where he'd broken his arm or caught a snitch. That pitch was gone, nothing more than a pile of blackened ash now. But they had rebuilt and this one was just as grand, carried with it all of the same feelings and memories.

Harry hadn't played Quidditch since well before the pitch burned though. Hunting Voldemort's horcruxes could be blamed for that. It was sort of time consuming. He'd been on his broom, certainly, but he hadn't played. No one could go through Auror training and pass without first proving themselves on a broom. It was a part of the job and Harry had passed the tests with flying colors. He'd passed nearly every test with flying colors. In fact, Harry would graduate Auror training in three days. But flying a broom as an Auror and flying one to play Quidditch were two entirely different things.

He climbed the stairs hidden within the Gryffindor stands easily, letting a calloused hand trail along the new wood as he took it all in. A large part of him missed Hogwarts, missed Quidditch, missed some form of his childhood he wasn't even sure he had. He wrapped himself in it now, reaching the door at the top and opening it. The sound of the fans was nearly deafening. Most of Harry's classmates were in the stands, plus Luna. He smiled brightly at the blonde as she spotted him and hugged her.

"Oh, I missed you, Harry!" She told him, looking him up at him. She frowned gently, "are you lonely?" Luna always had a way of seeing right through him. He smiled back at her and shrugged, letting Hermione squeeze him a little too tightly.

"You saw me last week." Harry laughed, taking a seat between them.

"I didn't know you were coming." Hermione said casually, listening as the teams took the field. Harry frowned, listening to both Hermione and Dean Thomas.

"I just decided." He replied, distracted. He glanced back at Hermione, confused. She hadn't told him anything was amiss in any of her letters. Just to be sure, before he asked, Harry counted the number of players on the field. Everyone who should be there, was there. "Hermione?" Harry looked toward the Slytherin stands, scanning the crowd. Still no blonde hair. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Malfoy?"

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah." Harry craned his neck to see the people Blaise Zabini- Slytherin's new Captain- had on the bench. No Draco. "Didn't he come back for Eighth Year?" He was certain she had said that Draco was there. If he was, then where was he?

"Yes, he did." Hermione nodded, cheering as Ginny did something Harry didn't see. He tried to turn his attention back to the game but soon lost focus.

"So? Where is he?" Harry prodded. The muggleborn shrugged.

"I don't know! He doesn't really come to games anymore!" She called out over the cheers of the surrounding crowd. "He doesn't really do anything anymore, Harry!" Luna, having been listening, leaned over on the other side of him.

"He sits out by the lake by himself." She told him, standing right after to wave a Gryffindor flag in appreciation of Cormac McLaggen.

Harry tried to return his attention to the game, watching the players race around and listening to Dean voice a play by play.

"... and Greengrass has the Quaffle! McLaggen better get it together for this one, folks! She's no chump!" Still, it bothered Harry that Draco wasn't out on the pitch. It was… odd somehow, something he couldn't look past. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, he and Draco weren't friends. They never had been and probably never would be.

Finally, Harry excused himself with, thankfully, only a little argument from Hermione. He left the stands and made his way away from the Pitch toward the lake, questioning himself with every step he made. Harry had no idea why it bothered him that Draco wasn't there. He hadn't even spoken to the blonde since the Malfoy trials. Even then, they hadn't spoken much. Draco had roughly and awkwardly apologized, Harry had returned his wand. That should have been the end of it, then and there. Yet Harry found himself searching the shoreline to find the blonde.

It wasn't a difficult task. The trademark Malfoy hair shone like a beacon. Harry propelled himself over and lifted his weight up into the massive rock to sit beside the Slytherin. Draco blinked a few times, head slowly turning to stare at Harry.

"Potter." The tone he used was half confusion and question, half annoyance and insult. He had no more an idea as to why Harry was there than Harry did but the brunette did not move.

"Malfoy." Harry replied coolly. He really had no idea what to say but he was stuck now. Draco scowled back at him, waiting. "You're not on the pitch." It was the only reason he had for the awkward meeting. He felt that, really, it was reason enough. Draco's eyes narrowed and then he looked back to the dark blue water. "Why?" Harry asked finally.

"It's not the same." Draco didn't need to say anymore for that to make perfect sense. The Slytherin added a shrug for effect. Harry knew that he didn't mean it was a different pitch.

"No," Harry agreed, nodding, "it's not. Nothing is the same."

"Nothing will ever be the same." Draco replied quietly. Harry couldn't argue with that either. He turned to face the blonde.

"So what? You're not going to play anymore?" He prodded, more curious than anything else. "Because of the war?" Draco barked a laugh. It was a strange sound, trapped somewhere between bitter and genuinely amused. It was completely different than the mocking laugh Harry was used to but he hated it just the same.

"_You're _going to preach to _me_ about _that_, Potter?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. "Why aren't I on the pitch? Why aren't _you _on the pitch?" The barb stung. Harry frowned at him, a little insulted.

"I have a job."

"Right." Draco drawled, "That conveniently takes you away from Hogwarts or anything that's the same. Or not the same, as the case may be; as well as off the pitch."

"Well, I," Harry started to make an excuse and then paused, considering what Draco had said. The blonde smirked triumphantly. "This is about you, not me." Harry said finally.

"Oh, right." Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's about me, not wanting to play anymore. Not you, doing the exact same thing." Harry scowled at him and he smirked again, turning back to the water.

"I don't like this Draco." Harry told him curtly.

"You don't like any Draco." Draco corrected, getting up and jumping down gracefully. Harry didn't move. He felt like that would make it weirder than it already was. Draco looked back up at him and shrugged. "So I'm running, Potter. Lovely of you to notice. But so are you. You want me on the pitch? Go out on the pitch." Then he turned and walked away without a glance back.

Harry let his words sink in, glaring at the water. Draco was right. He was continuing to chase Death Eaters and run away from whatever else was out there- whatever was supposed to happen _after_. Harry had never really contemplated the after. He'd never thought he'd make it to see it truthfully. Hell, he'd never gotten to contemplate the before. Yet here he was, right in the middle of it, doing the exact same things he always had. He turned to say something scathing but Draco was already long gone.

Getting up, Harry stalked all the way back to the pitch and all the way up the stairs. He was certain to slam both doors to make a point before making his way to the headmistress and sitting down. Harry crossed his arms petulantly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" She prodded after a few long moments of silence from the would be Auror. Harry stared at the game he could be playing. He could finally play Quidditch and hang out with his friends. He could play pranks and skip class for normal reasons. He could do all of the things his peers were doing and he could do it without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. This was his chance to do anything he wanted and what was he doing with it? Chasing Death Eaters, thank you very much. He looked over to the Headmistress, chin lifted high.

"I want to come back to Hogwarts."

AN: guys, you should totally go check out GruffChronicles on fictionpress, Instagram, Twitter, and Wattpad! More people need to read that story!

MISCHIEF MANAGED


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